Back in a Flash II A Moonlite Picnic

Marguerite had searched for Armand, but was told by one of the servants that he had gone with Percy to take care of the needed business. So nice of Percy to at least look after her brother while ignoring me she thought to herself.

Aimlessly Marguerite wondered out among the fields at Richmond again. At first she found herself at the stables. She walked through the building, stopping to affectionately pet each of Percy's proud horses and giving each a small handful of feed. Most of the horses seemed to have taken a liking to her, probably only because of the food though. At least something here was willing to give her affection, she mused once again to herself. At the end of the row there was a black horse which was now hers, according to one of the stable hands, as decided by Sir Percy. Marguerite gently stroked the horse's main and nuzzle. She had never had a horse, or any type of animal or pet for that matter. Very rarely did she ever have the chance to even ride in a carriage, at least until her career began taking off as an actress, or when she was in the company of a certain someone that made use of official coaches. The stable hand offered to saddle the horse for her, but being she did not know how to ride, she declined and quickly left the stable.

She made her way once more away from the manor near the stream on the grounds. She walked along the trickling waters, enjoying the cool spring breeze as it blew across the field. She came to a tree that she noticed had a wooden swing hanging from one of its many branches. Marguerite sat on the swing and once more looked over the meadow-like field and the listening to the water brought her mind back to another happier time.

The night's show went off wonderfully, and each night that she knew he was there, it was easier and easier to perform Celimene. At there most recent meeting she agreed to see him once more, agreeing on meeting after this night's performance. He said he would meet her at the stage door to pick her up in a carriage.

Marguerite had sent word with one of the boys on the street a short note for Armand not to wait up. With Percy, she never knew how late she would be out and would not want to worry him. In this times, a missing person, even a good Republican, could mean the worst.

Marguerite took much care after the show. Usually she rushed to change into her regular clothes and then off to which ever cafe or bistro everyone was meeting at for super after the show. But tonight, was different. Tonight her handsome Englishman was coming once again to sweep her off her feet. Once all care was taken to she that her simple but pretty clothes were on, and her hair adjusted, after all of the other actors and actresses had left, Marguerite made her way out the back door to find her Percy.

He hummed off-key to himself as he waited. She told him he did not have to meet her at her stage door, that she would come out to greet him. He argued with her of course, as was his way of a gentleman. What did it matter? Mlle. Marguerite St. Just only had to turn her head in that sly manner and whisper in his ear and he gladly let her have her way. He would not fall over and collapse at holding off meeting her at the door. He could still justify it in his head that he was being a gentleman by performing the request of a lady.

He glanced now and then at the stage door. The tan and black carriage stood out against the darkness of the surrounding buildings and street. The two white horses looked ghostly out of place, but it was all to impress the girl. Blakeney did not mind the stares he received as he paced around the side of the carriage. He had on his brown breeched hat and matching coat and britches. His cane of choice was blue, something to offset the brown and it matched his eyes. He glanced down at his brown gloves and brown boots. He was going on sort of a theme this evening. If Sultan was here, the two of them together would simply look smashing. The shirt under his jacket was a light blue, again, to match the cane.

Still pacing, he continued his off-key hum, when she did appear. He stopped in his tracks and smiled at her. "You look simply fabulous this evening!" Blakeney smiled and moved over quickly to greet her. Taking her hand in his, he gave a long kiss to the back of her hand. Offering his arm, he good naturedly spoke, "Your chariot awaits you my little Maeve."

Marguerite smiled gently at her handsome Englishman. After he kissed her hand she gently pulled it close to her face and held it against her warm cheek for a moment. Marguerite smiled again as he spoke the pet name he had given her on the night they met. She took his arm and stepped into the carriage Percy had arranged for them that night. Percy had not mention what he had planned for the night, so she was not sure where they were going. Marguerite waited for Percy to join her, "Now my dear Englishman, just what do you plan on doing with me this evening?"

Stepping on the carriage side, scooting on down next to her, his elusive blue eyes sparkled playfully. "I do say, there is a statement that could be considered a contradiction." Picking the reins up, his brown gloved hand gave them a quick twap and the white horses started on their way. Blakeney glanced over at Marguerite, wondering if she caught onto his humor.

Marguerite giggled and gently wrapped her hand around his arm as she teased him, "Oh Percy, what ever could a young, innocent girl like me do to a strong noble man like you."

He grinned over at her. "Quite the contrary Mlle. I was rather thinking on the fact that you call me an Englishman. Therefore, you glorify upon me the highest stature of a gentlemen. Now, it is not proper for a gentleman to have the sort of thoughts you fill my head with. Especially if I were to, how you say? "Tell you what my plans are on what to do with you this evening?"

He coyly looked at her. He blushed even. It was a very bold move on his part, but she had been quite bold and forward all week. If she were insulted, he expected her hand slapping his face to tell him. For now, he held his breath and hoped.

Marguerite turned to stare at him and blushed. Shocked, she was not expecting such a remark from him, although she had been making such amusing comments and coy remarks all along. "My dear Percy, I have never seen such a side of you; so bold and so brash."

Marguerite settled down next to him and in a daring mood, whispered, "Now I wonder what kinds of thoughts may go through such a man's head."

It was warm air that passed from her lips inches away from his ear, however he shivered madly. He had to call upon that controlling willpower of his to not stop the cart right in the middle of the road and kiss her. She was that powerful.

Gulping, he gave a boyish smile and stared straight ahead at the horses he drove. He tossed out a bluff he was not ready to be called on. "It would seem milady that those will remain secretly locked up for now."

Marguerite laughed at him, "You may not be such an English gentleman, but at least you still hold modesty."

He smiled. He never gave it a thought before, but as Fuelier, he said and did the most raunchiest of things. He kissed woman and groped at them without even a hesitant thought. It was all part of the role. Being next to Marguerite, he could never bring himself to touch her improperly.

He let the reins fall into one hand and wrapped his free arm around her. She was so close and smelled so fresh. Blakeney hugged her close, having gotten quite attached to her at his side this past week.

Marguerite enjoyed his arm wrapped around her. Unlike her previous lovers, he was soft, and gentle. He enjoyed her for her company and wit and unlike her other relationships, everything could be pure and simple. It revolved around two people without worries of politics and or which side each one was on. Here there was Percy and Marguerite.

She leaned into him and he could tell all was well. He was quiet in thought of her again, as the horses lead their way out of the middle of downtown Paris and onto an old country trail. Blakeney was a man full of resources. His main resource, next to acting, was money. Money could buy him nearly anything he needed, and earlier in the week, he used it to purchase information on the secluded place he was now taking Marguerite.

As the carriage headed off the main road onto a rarely used on, Blakeney smiled. He could hear faintly in the distance the small quartette playing that he had hired. Pulling the horses to a slow trot, he glanced over at Marguerite and gave her a tight squeeze. "I hope you do not mind an orchestrated picnic by moonlight." He beamed at her, his heart full of love.

Marguerite watched where Percy had led the team. Although she knew most of Paris like the palm of her hand, she did not recognize this route. She squinted to see the road, assuming that she did not recognize the area in the dark.

As they pulled into a clearing, Marguerite could hear so soft music. Being a performer, it was often as if she hear music in her own mind as if it were performed right in front of her. aimlessly she began to hum along with the sweet melody of the music she heard, but it wasn't until Percy pulled full into the clearing that she realized that there was actually a quartette playing. Looking into the opened meadow she was shocked to see a blanket, bordered by a few candles with a large basket sitting off to the side.

She felt Percy pull her slightly closer as she gasped at the evening he had planned. "Percy," she started slowly, still in shock, "you shouldn't have, I mean this is so much, all the trouble that you must have gone through for this."

He beamed. She really made him beam. It was nothing really. Ask a few questions. Toss around sought after English currency. Hint at a promise of a big tip and they provided him the perfect setting. He had to admit, as they came upon it, is was a rather nice place. A small pond. Plenty of trees and trails. They told him about the trails, but in the darkness it wasn't exactly something he was going to go exploring with the lady.

"Might I have this dance?" He glanced at her, still sitting in the carriage.

Marguerite's arm dropped, still in awe of everything she saw. Her slowly stood up and climbed down from the carriage. Stepping out into the middle of the opening, between the musicians and the picnic area, spinning around to look back and forth between the two. In a barely auditable tone she said to Percy, "I'm amazed at this Percy, no one has ever done something like this for me before."

He smiled as he helped her down from the carriage. Watching her, following her, each step he took with his long lanky legs was in the manner of a slow stroll. The four musicians, (made up of two violins, a cello and a viola) played classical tunes as well as some of the more updated French songs of the time. They could be playing an Irish jig for all he cared, he already had the visual music of St. Just.

Hearing her whisper in awe, he laughed out loud and moved near her. "Tis a shame really my dear. You have been obviously hanging around the wrong Englishmen." He chortled another laugh and put his hand on her waist. Spinning her around in the manner she was accustomed to, Blakeney decided to not ruin the music he was paying for and did not hum along. The Baronet proudly looked down at his date and lead Marguerite in a dance on the grass.

Marguerite could not help herself and even as Percy spun her around in a dance, she kept looking over at the musicians and the picnic. It must have been an extravagant expense to put together something like this. Perhaps that's why she was confused. If he had been a French aristo instead of English, her reputation as a Republican would be severely tarnished, although, being English in the eyes of most French was no better then a French aristo.

Unsure of what to say, a rarity for the outspoken actress, Marguerite simply allowed Percy to pulled her around in a dance. But instead of holding a normal distance, she stepped closer, and gently rested her head under his on his shoulder.

He watched her mindlessly. She was quiet, as was he. They twirled around a bit like that, listening to the music filled air accompanied also with crickets and other nightly creatures. She cuddled up closer to him and he felt the warmth of her body pressing against his clothes. Blakeney knew not where he was going with these meetings as he was a passionate sort of man. Sometimes passionate people let their emotions drive them instead of logic from their heads. In both anger and in love, he life was passionate and tonight he was driven by emotions alone.

Marguerite continued to rest her head against his tall shoulder. The soft, sweet music combined with his gentle swaying was making her tired and sleepy. The day had already been rather long. She had spent most of the previous night out with Percy. She had planed on sleeping in the next morning, but her little brother Armand had woken her up. She spent the afternoon hosting a salon which many well known and respected supports of the revolution attended and the evening performing at the theatre.

Marguerite seemed unusually quiet tonight, but remained close at his side. He had been taking every action and move that she made this past week as good signs of a possible union. They worked well together. She acted. Secretly, so did he. She sang. He enjoyed the finer things in life such as operas and concerts. She teased him terribly and he loved every minute of it. Blakeney always took a back seat and let her get the best of him, as is the way of a gentleman in love.

She was growing more and more sleepy as their dance progressed. Not that she was bored, but Percy's gentle lulling was nearly rocking her to sleep. She gently nessled her head under his chin, occasionally tickling his skin with her soft hair she was sure. She gave a soft, contented sigh as she closed her eyes until Percy spoke.

When the song changed, he glanced down at her and slowed the dance. "Are you hungry my dear? I must admit, dancing as you have shown me, I feel a bit weak." He was not tired at all. He was not really hungry either but in the basket were cheeses and meats. He remembered how she fed him on that one casual night in the bistro and he desperately wanted to go back there.

Percy's voice caused her to stir slightly from the near sleep state she had been in. Imagine that, falling asleep while not only standing but while dancing as well. She looked up into Percy's eyes and then back to the blankets where the dinner was laid out. "Oh, of course Percy, I did not realize that you would be so tired, and after all the trouble you went through for this lovely dinner, yes I think it's time we sat down and enjoyed it."

Gently he led her over to the blanket and helped her sit down. There was no chair to pull out, and no chaperon, say the quartet. He felt quite comfortable in the manner however. No English society to answer to. Just a girl and a man who enjoyed each other company. She seemed a little distant to him, however and for that, Blakeney worried.

"Would you like to begin?" He opened up and laid out the food, curious to her seemingly growing fatigue. "Is everything alright Maeve?" His worried blues gazed into her greens. Perhaps he shouldn't worry so much all the time, but since his youth, it was something forced into his life. Freud, if he ever was able to do a case study on Blakeney, would say it was due to his mother's involvement in his upbringing.

Blakeney sat across from her on the blanket that was laid out in the grass. He was not at all sure what was going on inside her. A small amount of fear laid to rest that he was not willing to face.

Marguerite drew in a deep breath and looked across the blanket to Percy. Softly she answered, "I'm fine Percy, just tired, that's all. Hungry and tired actually," she noted as she glanced over picnic Percy had arranged for them, "though I'm not sure I can even feaster the strength to feed myself tonight, it has been such a long day."

He smiled and took the cue. Nodding to the quartette, they played a lulling melody, the very song she sang to him the night of the bistro. He remembered the title, since he understood her words. If she asked about his memory, he would modestly say he tried to hum it to them.

"If you are so feaster, I shall have to take it upon myself to feed you." He glanced into her eyes and gently took a hold of her shoulders. "If the lady does not mind, I would be honored to have my long limbs serve as some sort of pillow for your beauty." He gestured to his legs, which were now crossed in front of him. Leaning her back, he swore life could never get better than this one moment.

Marguerite was to tired and famished to object - not that she wanted to. After all, she had experience with previous courters, admirers and beaus, but she still was a little careful with Percy. For some reason she did not think, even with the extra years, he had much experience with the fairer sex. Marguerite leaned back and into Percy's embrace. Marguerite could see Percy reaching over to a near by plate with one free hand and he soon used to offer her a piece of meat and cheese rolled together in the same manner she had offered him several nights ago in the bistro. Marguerite took a small bit at first, but instead of taking another bit when he offered it again, she playfully nipped at his fingers.

Smiling broadly, knowing what action he hoped to achieve by offering the meat and cheese, he fed Marguerite who laid in his lap. Ready to lean in at any moment and help her out on the other end. Their lips had yet to embrace, so far his lips had only touched her hand. Each stare, each coy smile or teasing look, sent him soaring. She had such an alluring power that he never wanted to figure out. She was magic.

He glanced up at the quartette playing. Suddenly, he wondered if their services were more of a nuisance than a welcomed addition. What was this growing feeling inside of him? Had he wasted his youthful years reading books and exploring new countries? He felt alive, and it was all due to enchantress Marguerite.

When her lips touched across his fingers, he closed his eyes. She was seducing him and his reactions were of obvious enjoyment. Why had he hired this demmed quartette?!? Catching his breath, calling upon his willpower, Blakeney looked down at her and smiled. "From what I hear, there are times and places for such things Mlle. St. Just." His eyes looking at her questioningly, as he was a gentleman first.

Marguerite was slightly unsure of how to read Percy sometimes when it came to affection. He had welcomed her to relax against him and offered her the food, but was playfully nipping at his long, slender fingers too much for the English gentleman? And he had often called her Mlle, though she insisted otherwise, but Mlle. St. Just?

Marguerite reached one hand up and pulled the meat and cheese from Percy's hand and lifted herself up with the other "Perhaps there are, Sir Percy." she said wearily as she sat up and supported herself on the blanket.

He watched her rip the meat and cheese from his hand as if he did not deserve the very company he was blessed with. His eyebrows furrowed in a confused look at her, watching her be the independent woman she had always proven herself to date. He had offended the lady, and she retorted back with a quick "Sir Percy" to counter his nervousness.

He glanced, fully embarrassed now at the quartette playing close enough by. Why did his father never take him aside and teach him the ways to court a woman such as this?! "Probably because he was busy with my own mother..." Blakeney answered his own question to himself. He watched Marguerite defiantly eat the food when only moments before she laid draped across his lap in the most comfortable way. Her look of anger, frustration, or both was obvious to his keen eye. If he could read her so easily now, why could he not control the reactions he sought?

"I apologize Mlle... Marguerite." He knew she did not care for his formalness. He could not help it sometimes. 32 years of formalness does not wash away in a blink of an eye. "Maeve?" He attempted. She glanced at him, still none too happy, but it seemed to have softened her a bit. "I... I am not very good at practicing your customs." It sounded foolish, even to him.

She knew he was cautious, but why invite her, tempt her, if he was merely going to turn her away in the end. By bring her hopes and joy up only to let them go and fall away.

Blakeney leaned back on his hands and sighed. He was 32 years of age! What was so difficult about pleasing her? He glanced over at her, tried a sorrowful look and whispered, "Maeve... please... if you would. Lend me your ear?" He leaned over nearer to her.

Marguerite held still, but not to let him near, more just to refuse to move. Would he just try to sway her again only to crush her feelings?

Softly, Blakeney whispered to her, "You asked me earlier what sort of thoughts may go through such a man's head such as myself....." he pulled back a little, to look her straight in the eye to show his honesty and sincerity. "All I can offer is, the thoughts that go through my head are the very wanting to kiss you as a man does to his wife.... yet in my culture, such an unwed action would be to insult the lady...."

His eyes sought out her comfort. He was confused and he wanted so badly to be alone.

Her poor Percy, so timid and so afraid of such a simple thing as a kiss. His confession nearly brought a tender tear to her dropping, tired eyes. Still, her face just inches away from his, she stared into his bright eyes. She closed the distance between the two and once again nuzzled her face close to his. Gently stroking the opposite cheek with one hand while bringing her other hand to rest on his should, she placed a long, lingering kiss on his cheek. She felt one single tear escape from under her eye and roll down her cheek while her lips were still pressed to his soft cheek.

Having her meet his eyes, he prayed she would not continue her off standish nature. She neared. He hoped. So close, so damn close and just when he was about to lean into meet what he hoped was her forward kiss, she moved away.... meeting his cheek. His lazy eyes mourned for the kiss he wanted so intensely. His lips parted and then gapped ever so slightly at not having a partner to meet.

His cheek received the honor of the kiss and he closed his eyes in defeat. He reached for her hand and held it up to his chest. In a soft whisper to her ear, he pleaded, "Dear God, tell me it is alright to kiss this astounding creature... please Maeve... please tell me that I may...."

Marguerite continued to hold her lips to his cheek. She could hear him softly speaking into her ear. She wanted nothing more then to fulfill all of his heart's desires. Rather then speak, she released her lips from his cheek, and gently placed them elsewhere over his smooth face, on his other cheek, on his chin, even tenderly on the tip of his nose, but if he wanted feel her lips pressed against his, he would have to make that decision.

She never answered him in words, and it almost did not matter. She was driving him crazy and he no longer cared what was proper English etiquette. Reaching up with both of his hands, Blakeney kissed her firm on the lips, long and hard.

Marguerite felt Percy finally close the gap between her lips and his. She brought her hands forward to gently caress his face, not wanting him to break away. She pulled her lips off his but just for a moment, "So much for my *proper* English gentleman." she said with a giggle before once again allowing her lips to tenderly press against his own.

This felt so right. When he was hiding and escaping lost souls away, he thought no other thrill could penetrate his soul, but this.... this was heavenly. Blakeney called upon the primal urges of nethanderal man and caressed the sides of her face in return. He got lost in her, and as she pulled away from him, he could not stop kissing her.

"Mmmmm...." he did not understand and did not want to know. She pulled from him and it took him a moment to understand her words. Seeing her teasing and giggling face, Blakeney shook his head with the smile of anticipation and whispered, "To hell with your *proper* Englishman." He grinned and pressed himself back to kiss her, leaning her gently down on the blanket.

She was so warm and her kisses were incredibly soft and sweet. Wrapping his arms around her, he reached up and pet her hair, enjoying the moment, eyes closed so reality of it having to stop at some point would not be faced.

Marguerite smiled to herself as she felt Percy continue to push his lips to hers over and over again. Thinking that her lips were probably the first his lips had touched, Marguerite blushed to herself. His words made her giggle but she wondered what he was thinking as he led her to lean back on the blanket. Could she really have caused him to let go of all of his proper English breeding?

Something felt odd about it in a way. She had become so accustomed to her proper Englishman that she now felt as though she were corrupting him. Marguerite paused the gentle joining of lips, pulling away from him but searching in the darkness for his blue eyes, "I can not help but to think that I may have done an awful thing playing such an awful part in corrupting you."

He took a breath and smiled, winded down at her. "Do not think of it that way," he whispered. "Think of it as you are freeing the man that has been dying to escape." He questioned himself, but only for a mere second this time. He listened to the quartette continue to play, the two lover's actions not phasing them a bit as they played.

Blakeney rolled over and looked up, holding onto Marguerite with his arms so her head laid upon his vest and chest. "You do realize you are doing me a great service by pulling me from this mold you know. Marguerite, you spoke once of your parents. Did you know them long?"

Marguerite sighed in Percy's embrace, wondering why such a sober topic after their first moment of true intimacy. She rested her head gently on his chest. "My mother died when I was eleven of consumption. My father died less then a year later, I like to think of a broken heart. I was old enough to remember them, but not much. Armand knows even less." Marguerite paused and pondered in the silence, "Why do you ask?"

He hugged her closer. Impulse, the moment had him wanting to tell her everything. Tell her about his life, his travels, why he acted the way he did. "You think you corrupted an Englishman, yet in reality, well, I have lived most of my life away from English shores."

"I would like to lie here and tell you I grew up around fancy parties and carts and horses and the like, but the truth is, I spent my entire childhood on my father's ship. Even after my mother died, which is why we did this, he and I still traveled abroad. I was schooled in the proper ways of an English Baronet's son, and sometimes I wonder to myself what life would have been like.... if my mother was not ill and we all lived in Richmond. Surely I might not be here to kiss the lovely lady." He smiled.

Marguerite was again left speechless listening to her strong English nobleman, the timid sweetheart who had just first kissed her lips. She was not sure what to say to him. What an odd life, living an a ship all alone. Although they were parentless, she and Armand were never alone, there were always friends, relatives, neighbors, and most of all each other for support.

I suppose," he continued, "that is why, I fear, that I seem the way I do. I never mean you any improperness Maeve, and I am careful to ensure that I do you no disservice as a..." he sort of looked up and away, finding this topic of conversation a bit hard, "... as a suitor." Wow. What an odd thought. Blakeney, somebody's suitor.

Marguerite smiled to herself. None of the men she previously called her lover actually called themselves a suitor. Although, Marguerite wondered why Percy would turn his face away at such a wonderful thought. Perhaps is was that English gentleman inside trying weakly to fight back and take over.

"La! But I am bringing down the house instead of uplifting it. You have every right to scold me as you do my Maeve. How else will I read you better?" Turning his head, he smiled at her and picked up a new piece of meat and cheese. The quartet still played in the background as he brought the food up to her lips. When it appeared she leaned in to accept, he pulled the meat back teasingly and pressed his own lips upon hers instead.

"I hope the day will never come when I will have to scold you." Marguerite said as Percy once again offered her a new piece of food. She moved gently closer before he began to tease her with and finally, once more, pushed his lips over her own. She felt a warm flood move through her veins and fill her body with each kiss that became less timid, and more loving and passionate.

He came up for air and gazed lovingly into her green eyes. "You are the most amazing woman to me..." he said breathlessly. "What songs do you sing to enchant Maeve, when your voice is silent?" He reached for her hand and squeezed it tightly.

Marguerite smiled as he continuously whisper she compliments to her. Her heart nearly skipped a beat with each word that he breathed from his tender lips. English or not, aristocrat or not, he was the most amazing man she had ever met, but she dare not say this, for she doubted mere words could express her true feelings.

"What is this strange power you possess over a weak foolish man such as I?" he beamed at her. The compliment he gave willingly and he brought her hand up to his lips to kiss each tender finger in turn. Gently, he released her finger and toyed with a piece of cheese. "I am scheduled to return to Richmond tomorrow evening, you see. I am not due to return to France for another few months." He looked at her, but not a hint of sadness was captured on his face or in those lazy blue eyes.

She froze. Marguerite's heart plummeted as her broke the news of his leaving. She knew he was not French, not a native of her land. She knew he traveled extensively, after all he mentioned watching her for years on the stage. Why had she allowed herself to fall so, why hadn't she consider he would need to leave eventually. And he did not even look remorseful.

"Maeve, I wish to postpone my business back in England. I wish to continue our meetings here as we do each night. There is something about you, be it your clever wit or your constant will to surprise, that makes my blood curl at the outrageous thought of not seeing you again as we have been. This is what I want Maeve. This and this alone." He smiled at her and took both her hands in his.

She was near tears again, she wrapped her arms around him, as well as she could being that he was laying down on the blanket and slowly began to sob tears of happiness.

He blinked back his surprise at her sudden outburst of emotion. Bringing his arms around her, Blakeney looked down and over at her as she buried herself into his chest. "Whot the devil did I say?" He could not see her face to see what new pain her brought. Though he had to admit, that did not make any sense. He held her and softly stroked her hair.

Marguerite loved the feel of that, his arms wrapped around her slender body as he ran his hand through her long main of hair. She her him murmur something, but she could not make out what it was. She hugged him tighter, not willing to let go of him ever if she could help it.

"Maeve?" He called when she quieted down. The quartet started to play something very low and soothing as he felt simply flabbergasted by Marguerite's female reactions. "Maeve?" He asked again and reached down to find her chin. Gently he lifted it up to look at him where his questioning lazy blues looked at her wet face.

Marguerite looked up into Percy's soft eyes to see a look of confusion etched across his face. She had forgotten that being English he was most likely not accustomed to seeing such a display of emotion, much less female emotion. To calm him, she brought one hand up to gently caress his cheek as she held her own lips against his.

Gladly he accepted the kiss on that moonlit picnic night. Her soft touch reassured him and her kisses were emulating his heart. After a while, Blakeney sat up and dabbed at her eyes with his handkerchief. "I will be right back." He smiled down at her and gently kissed her forehead.

Marguerite smiled as he tenderly wiped dry her flooding eyes with such care. When he mention leaving for a moment she meant to protest but the soft kiss on her forehead silenced her.

Moving over to the quartet, as the hour had grown late, he paid them handsomely and they took to their horses, making their way back into town. Blakeney glanced back at the girl waiting for him on the blanket. The candles began to fade around her and he could barely make out her expression as he neared. Now they were alone.

Part of him felt he should lift her up and take her home in the carriage. It was his English upbringing speaking in his ear. Blakeney looked around and stood on the edge of the blanket, deciding. It was improper for a man of his stature to be left unescorted with a young girl he had barely met a week before.

Marguerite watched as Percy dismissed the musicians, not that she had paid much notice to them throughout the night, but it struck her. that first kiss for Percy was no doubt something of a breakthrough for him when it came to dealing with woman. that alone seemed to be a great step, but would he actually be so forward as to allow himself to be alone with one.

On the opposite view, Marguerite was French and Blakeney was not in England. He actually stood there a moment, having the silent debate in his head. When it appeared he might take the proper British action, he looked down at her delicate face and thought "To hell with tradition." Blakeney found himself sitting down, taking her in his arms, gently kissing the back of her neck. She had awoken in him the hunting wolf that had been suppressed like a dog for too many years.

Marguerite felt his arms close around her once more and she expected his lips to meet hers, but they didn't. Instead, she felt them exploring the back of her neck. Such a feeling sent shivers of excitement up and down her spine. The first kiss was one thing, but this was much more then she expected, but what did he expect of her now?

Brushing her hair away from her neck for better lip coverage, he whispered in between kisses, "I hope I do not bring you to tears again Maeve. Tell me, what brought you to such a state?"

Marguerite sighed, "When you said you were leaving Paris and not planning to come back for a few months, I . . ." her voice trembled, "I thought that all this was just goodbye." She ran her hands over Percy's arms which were tightly wrapped around her as she leaned back against his chest, too shaken to look him in the eyes. "This past week was so wonderful, like a dream, the though of you leaving me was a shock. but, my dearest Percy, when you told me you wished to stay, I cried tears of joy that I will still be with you."

His heart swelled with emotion. There were very few occurrences in his life that reduced the strong and stout Englishman to tears. Being scolded as a child by his mother, his early teen years where he was severely beaten for speaking out of anger against his mother's name to his father, and at the funeral of the late Sir Blakeney.

He turned his head and rested a cheek upon her shoulder, closing his eyes. Giving her a strong squeeze, he hugged Marguerite from behind and clenched his jaw. Ten years of being alone caused this wave of weakness in him and he did not know how to control it. Alone for so long... and here was someone who shown him kindness and a want to be with him. Her tears of joy at his ceased departure. To be with her was his need. "I do not wish to leave you...." he whispered and partly released the hug on her with one arm. Embarrassed and vulnerable, Blakeney reached up and quickly wiped at his face.

Marguerite felt Percy's grip loosen on her. She turned her head to see that tears were in his eyes as well. She was surprised by such emotion, especially from an Englishman. "Oh, my poor Percy," Marguerite said as she brought one hand up to brush his cheek. She tried to speak, but the words would not come to her. Gently she brought her lips to his face and kissed each tear that blemished his soft skin.

"Dust...." he attempted, moving back from her kisses and feeling like the small little boy in front of his mother. "Tis just dust...." he lied and looked at Marguerite. She had this uncanny ability to read him like a book in moments such as these and he gave a sheepish wry smile of defeat. "Alright, perhaps not dust..." he admitted and looked at her in the moonlight. Her dark face shone even still when each curve of her face turned to be touched by the moon's beams.

"Forgive me Marguerite." He coughed into his hand to clear his throat. All he could think of was 'wow'. Nothing had ever hit him so hard and unexpected. He lied back on the blanket and blinked up into the starlight. It must have been very late, but he did not care to take his leave just yet. While he felt foolish for his actions, he turned his head to gaze at her once more. Reaching his hand out to her, Blakeney invited her in to come rest against his chest.

"And yet you would turn down kisses from me?" Marguerite looked into his eyes, "Perhaps from now on I should give them more sparingly so you will appreciate them more." Marguerite watched as Percy laid back down on the blanket and then turned to look at the dark sky, sprinkled with bright stars and a full moon. She turned as she felt Percy's hand brush her arm, gesturing for her to join him on the blanket. As she once more laid her head on Percy's shoulder, she attempted to hide a slight yawn. By now it surely must be closer to dawn then it was dusk and her lack of sleep was catching up with her, more she was determined not to waste a moment with Percy.

"You are as stern as the keel on a ship Maeve." He smiled, hearing her scold him again. "I would never turn down a kiss offered from someone as lovely as you." He kissed her forehead again and stared up at the stars, his arms holding her closely against him. He became quiet as his mind drifted.

She accused him of turning down kisses, yet he was embarrassed at that sort of attention. Blakeney became hard on himself and reprimanded his own actions further in his head. He did not realize it, but as his thoughts droned on, his lazy lids drooped more and more closed.

Marguerite rested as Percy grew silent. After a while the silence began to bother her. She usually didn't mind, silence was often a peaceful thing, but with Percy it seemed a bit odd. Perhaps it was because whenever she grew silent he would question her, or complement her. She wondered what kinds of thoughts must have been going through his head at the moment. "Percy," she whispered, wondering if he had even fallen asleep, "what are you thinking about?"

He had started to doze off and hearing her voice, the blue eyes snapped open and the adrenaline pumped. His first thought was: "What time is it!?" and seeing it still dark, he glanced down at Marguerite. "Hmmm? Say whot luv? Thinking? Just of why you effect me how you do." Blinking the sleep out of his eyes, he returned to stroking her long red mane.

Marguerite giggled, "And how is it that I affect you, my Percy, and to what conclusions have you come to?"

He released her and rolled over on his side now. The night animals made their hoots and chirps and he reached out to find her hand in the darkness. "How you effect me? Hmmm.. well Mlle. St Just" he put a teasing tone in his voice, "Let me tell you."

Blakeney told Marguerite briefly about his mother's mental illness. Ever since the day his father near denounced him, Blakeney was careful to not speak poorly against his mother, or any woman for that matter. He told Marguerite how he felt about life on the move, which was it had its ups of seeing many things, but left him rather dry on social matters.

"You see my little Maeve, the only woman I grew up around was the woman who gave birth to me. A kind word near never escaped her wits, God bless her soul, as she was not herself after I was born." He wondered why he was telling her all this. Blakeney never spoke of such things. He never spoke how growing up on that demmed ship forced him into someone he might not have become otherwise. Still, he could not go back and change the past anymore than he could speak against either parent.

"After my father passed on in 1782 I inherited the family fortune, which most would think I should be grateful for ten times over. I know I am glad to have been blessed with such monetary things, but I believe I would trade it all to find out what is it like to be a poor boy on London's dirties street.. poor mothers who would speak to..."

He was not going to get all damn emotional again and clenched his jaw. Damn! He never spoke of such things and why on God's great earth was he starting now? Her question. Her question was not completely answered.

"I was thinking Maeve how you are so good to me. Better than this bloke deserves. . My conclusion, milady, is that I shaltn't waste time speaking of shadows in the past when I can bask in the wonder of your much desired company."

He paused for a moment and then kissed the top of her hand. "You effect me Maeve in that I feel comfortable with you... speaking of things that have never been for anyone's ears."

Marguerite leaned in and placed yet another soft kiss on Percy's cheek. "You can be assured that everything you have told me this night will be held in confidence in my heart. At the same time I would say that it is I who is the lucky one. Few men consider actresses of any personal worth. I am sure you are aware of the, reputation, actresses have. Seeing as I was alone and at work at such a young age, I was an easy target for men, especially men in positions such as yours, positions of wealth and influence, who would assume that I was just as most other actresses, eager to give private performances to male admirers."

When she kissed him again, he smiled and almost kept her face near for more. Her tone however warned him against stopping her, and he settled down, resting his elbow on the blanket with his head cradled in his hand. Her voice, seemed tired now as the night drained on. He wished he could listen to it for hours.

When Marguerite spoke of the reputation of actresses, his eyebrows raised in the darkness. He knew of their reputation. As Fuelier, he used that to his advantage to manipulate conversations many a times in order to get information needed. She spoke of private performances of male admirers. He heard her speak, but his mind clicked into gear and Blakeney could not help but wonder what her past held. She was so forward with him. She was so confident on how she pushed his buttons just right. Not that he was complaining... it was wonderful to be at her beck and call. He would not have changed anything about his behavior this past week.

Still though..... he wondered.

Many thoughts rushed through her head that instant. She was no longer a maiden, but she would not share that thought with Percy. Although her company was well considered and chosen, and she had nowhere near the number of experiences someone might expect a woman in her position to have.

He could not get beyond the conversation in his head. She planted the idea that he never even considered before. Had she been with other men? Had she entertained privately? He was in France, not on British soil, but not even that fact could bring him to ask the lady such a question. He already felt released of his gentleman prison and would not risk ruining the ground gained by even doubting her integrity. No. She was an outgoing person with much integrity. She would never have done such a thing he decided.

She looked away from Percy's eyes for a moment. "I must be honest with you Percy. The night you first attended my performance this week, when you first approached me, I was not exactly in the mood for guests, but I consented, planning some fun. Admirers come and go, and it is rare that they admire little more then what their eyes can see. I had planned to attend the bistro on your arm, the bistro because most of fortune look down on such places. Afterwards I expected to be escorted home and have done with you, I also expected a protest, hence the mention of another at home." Marguerite smiled again at him, "To think I nearly willingly turned down that greatest thing to come into my life."

He smiled and took her delicate hand in both of his. He chortled a laugh now and responded simply with, "Had you turned me down, I guarantee you milady, I would have tried again over time."

Marguerite gently moved her fingers with Percy's, allowing them to brush his soft hands. With her other hand Marguerite reached up to guide Percy closer to her. "It is a good thing you were not forced to do so, think about all the time we would have lost." she breathed as she lifted her lips to meet his own.

He felt himself quickly getting over the sadness or the wonderment conversation in his head. As she kissed him, he pulled her near and returned the affection with the same intensity. He found a new pleasure in life. A simple one most people take for granted. It was one he never allowed himself to indulge in, and he did indulge now. The simple passionate kiss.

As the night grew on, Blakeney and St. Just laid there in each other's arms. His breath was short at first, his heart racing so. The late hour of the evening only grew and the sleep that he normally could fend off was betrayed by the warm body next to him. Soon, his eye lids could not remain awake.

Marguerite cherished each time his lips were pressed against hers. He held her close and she would nuzzle close against him, hoping against hope that this was the eternal night. But that was not to be, after finally succumbing to sleep, she rested in his arms until the first morning rays of the dawn pricked at her eyes and caused her to awaken. She watched as the bright sun rose through the trees until it shown on the meadow where they were sleeping. When the light became to much for her still sleepy eyes, she buried her face into Percy's shoulder to shield them from the sun. She soon fell back into a peaceful slumber.

Unaware of night into day, he found himself nuzzling up against the warmth of her body as the dew had already formed around them. He had never spent a night this way, and the world was a grand place in his dreams. After one too many persistent calls for a mocking bird, Blakeney blinked open his eyes, finding Marguerite still sleeping in his arms. The sun shone brightly down and the gentleman inside began to worry at the situation.

Soon however, Blakeney killed that worry. Wrapping his relaxed arms around her again, he rested his head next to her, trying to fall back asleep.

Marguerite felt a gentle stir. She did not see Percy's open when she opened hers, but she felt his grip tighten around her body and his face nuzzle up closer to hers. She smiled to herself as she placed a gentle kissed the tips of his nose.

He blinked open his eyes at the kiss. His smile matched hers, and for a while, he did not speak for want of not ruining the beauty found through his eyes. His eyes searched out her own and he rested there peacefully. Re-nuzzling his body into hers he found a perfect position where he could press his cheek into hers. "Good morning Maeve." He whispered, finally breaking the silence.

"Good morning my dearest." Marguerite said as she brushed her cheek against his. Marguerite tired holding still but her muscles yearned to be stretched. Even with Percy's arms still firmly around her, she stretched her legs muscles. Even though they had spent the entire night together on the meadow, the evening seemed much to short and she yearned to sleep the entire day though so that she might once again wake up in the evening under that stars and in Percy's arms.

Feeling her wiggle and stretch in his arms, he released her and sat up. He immediately brought his hands up to his face and felt the light stubble growing upon his chin and cheek. He turned away from Marguerite, too many years of routine, and he ran his hands through his messy blonde locks. He glanced over at her and gave a sheepish smile, quickly taking out the hair tie to try and capture the fly away strands and recontain them. "Are you ready to go home for the evening?" He teased.

As Percy released her and sat up, she took the opportunity to stand up and fully stretch. Her body ached slightly from being contained in a corset for so many hours and her feet felt slight discomfort from sleeping while wearing shoes. Marguerite took a few short steps around the boarder of the blanket as she heard Percy ask her if she was ready to go home. "Ah, but my dear Percy, the night is still so young." she answered in a mocking manor. Marguerite knelt back down to help Percy pack the picnic. More then once their hands meet as they bother reached for the same items at the same time. Once the basket was packed he offered her his arm and led her to his carriage for the ride home.

He smiled at her constant wit as they packed up the picnic. A bottle of chilled wine gone to waste. They ate little, but Blakeney did not mind in the least bit. He wondered if the place he rented the carriage from would mind the late return. He laughed a little out loud, thinking what did it matter? He would return it to them with more francs and they would be asking him to come back very soon.

The British gentleman felt a little self conscious, as this was his first night ever sleeping in the arms of a woman in such a taboo manner for an English aristocrat. Glancing over at Marguerite, he could see her smile and it just all melted away.

The two white horses pulled the carriage in a hurried manner. They had not had their night hay and pulled with a great urgency for an animal. Blakeney lead them up to Marguerite's flat and got out, insisting that she did not get down until he came around to help her.

Marguerite enjoyed the ride home, merely because of the company of her escort. She wrapped her arm around his as they drove home and in his gentlemanly manor insisted that she sat still in the carriage until her had tied the horses and come around to help her down from her seat. As they stepped to the door, Percy took her hand in his and lead her to the doorway. She could see that his eyes were glancing over the number of people already out and about on their daily business and she guessed he was carefully considering his next move, but Marguerite was not so patient.

He noted the stares from the French as the horses pulled up with he and his precious cargo. His clothes were wrinkled and his hair had not seen a proper comb or powder for being out this early in the morning. He did his best not to let onto Marguerite of his concern, but feared she would figure him out in the end.

She pulled the front door to her building open and nearly dragged Percy inside. She shut the door close and wrapped her arms around his neck, stepping up on her toes and passionately pushed her lips against his. She closed her eyes as she let her lips move against his in one last moment of their glorious night together.

Not expecting his forward company to do as she does this early, he was pulled inside and before he could even do as much as protest, her warm lips were seeking his own. Blakeney did not ask any questions, but closed his eyes, wrapped his arms around hers and kissed her back long and hard. As only two passionate lovers can do. He did not wish to let her go, but they both felt the need to start the day and depart.

Marguerite held on to Percy for a while, not willing to let the moment pass so quickly. When she finally did let her lips part from his, she opened her eyes to look at him, and only then did she notice his matted hair, the light stubble on his chin, and the wrinkled coat. She could not help herself but to laugh at him, even though she was sure she was in much the similar state. "Say whot?" he thought after the long luxurious kiss when she stared at him and then began to laugh. Of all things to do! His worried look at her laughing at him soon faded however. It was the same teasing laugh she reserved for him that always yielded good things afterwards.

She could see the questioning look grow in Percy's eye. He was always so self conscience about appearances and decorum, she knew his appearance must be a concern of his this morning. Although he was unkempt, Marguerite still couldn't take her eyes away from, even in this state there was something attractive about it. Perhaps because he seemed more like a man as opposed to a proper English gentleman, not that she minded being courted but such a gentleman, but to see him come away from the properness and to break slightly from the rules that had been so well burned into his behavior, in away it was refreshing.

He smiled, but in the back of his mind the Englishman knew he had to still face the neighbors and return the horses and cart. If the French held any sort of gossip like British top society, this was going to be made news by nightfall. She kept staring at him with a searching look on her face. He did not know his current physical state was making himself more desirable to Mlle. St. Just. Had he known, he might have used it more to his advantage. Instead, he smiled down at her, holding her hands gently.

Marguerite smiled at him, "My poor Percy, look what I have done with you by keeping you out all night." she said as she playfully ran her fingers through his soft hair and straightened his cravat. "No doubt you will want to rest and freshen up before you escort me to dinner and to the theatre tonight. I have just been longing to see the production that new threatre is currently performing, I have heard raves about it." Marguerite teased, she and Percy had no plans for that night, but doubted he would object to such a demand.

Closing his eyes, he leaned down into her fingers. At this moment in time he did not care that she fussed over him like a mother does to a child. There was something very... well damn alluring about what she was doing. His heart had already decided that he would follow her to the ends of the earth, if needed, for that one kiss.

"Whatever you desire my Maeve. I will take great pleasure to be in your company again so soon." Taking her hand, still maintaining the complete composure of a gentleman, he kissed the top of her fingers. That teasing look in her eye watched his actions with amusement but he was ready to try and surprise her in turn. Suddenly, without warning, he took hold of her waist and pulled her close in a forceful kiss. She could tease him and lead him about as she saw fit. He did not mind it in the least, however Blakeney was going to show her that he too could act French.

Marguerite smiled as Percy, in his well breed manner, took to carefully taking her fingers to his lips. She relished each time one of his sweet lips brushed them and felt a contented sigh in her heart with each one, however what Percy followed them up with she did not expect. The strong grab on her waist, being pulled into his embrace as he placed his lips over hers once more.

It wasn't until shuffling from upstairs broke the silence that she forced herself away. Little Jenna, who lived with her mother in the flat below Marguerite and Armand came skipping down the stairs. The little girl happily greeted Marguerite before going outside but paid no attention to Percy, which is all the better since once she knew Armand would know and Marguerite had not yet shared her relation with English Aristocrat with her Republican brother. Marguerite turned back to Percy and with one more sweet kiss wished him good day. "I expect you to be prompt and pick me up at 6:00pm this evening and we shall have what promises to be another glorious night together."

It was a glorious night that they had spent in the meadow by the lake just outside of Paris. She had released a man in Percy that until that night had been buried under years of being taught decorum and few things more tedious then how to properly tie a cravat. Marguerite refused to believe that the wedding rings they now wore, two small molded pieces of gold, could shove that man back into the shell he had been kept in for so long.

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